Destiny?
by Yohohoandabottleofcokezero
Summary: Modern Reincarnation. Who believes in destiny these days? Merlin/Arthur


**Title**: Destiny  
><strong>Author<strong>: imnotjkr  
><strong>Rating<strong>: G  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: None  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: Not mine. I wish.  
><strong>Author's Notes (AN)**: Written for **merlinxarthur**'s fanfic challenge #2.

**Summary: **Modern Reincarnation. Who believes in destiny these days?

Merlin sighed as he sloped into the booth and was suddenly choked by the overwhelming sent of incense. He'd been wondering around the carnival all day, and he'd tried to ignore the purple velvet with sparkling gold stars that made up the walls and roof of the booth, but there was something about it that seemed to call to him. He didn't believe in it, telling the future and things like that, but maybe it would be funny ... or interesting.

Finally, as the evening was drawing to a close, he found himself looking at it again and could no longer resist. There was a small, old and broken sign hanging from the front and as Merlin got closer he could read the calligraphy more clearly.

_Madame Kilgharrah_

_Fortune telling, Tarot Reading, Crystal Ball Readings and more._

Before he could talk himself out of it, he had walked inside. And there she was. She was old, almost at that stage where she seemed timeless, but there was nothing frail about her. Her hair had been pulled back in a floral scarf in various shades of brown and there was a small amount of make-up visible on top of the tan wrinkles that made up her skin. Her eyes almost appeared golden as they gleamed out of the semi darkness, only broken by the glowing of a large crystal ball on the centre of the table.

Merlin wasn't sure where the light was coming from, but decided it might be rude to ask.

"Well, sit down, boy, we don't have all day." Merlin sat down. She was clearly very commanding, a woman not to be messed with, and Merlin – however much he tried to pretend otherwise – was very aware he was a computer geek who she could probably snap like a twig.

"Hands on the table." After glaring at Merlin until he did as she was told, she followed suit, placing wrinkled hands on the crystal ball, her long brown nails so sharp they looked liked claws or talons. Now her hands were no longer on the arms of her chair, Merlin could suddenly see the rusted metal handcuffs attached to the scuffed wood. Seemingly noticing his attention, she smiled – revealing teeth almost too big for her mouth, like a shark – and explained "Those are for when I contact the dead, but they won't be necessary for this. You want a crystal ball reading."

It wasn't phrased like a question, and Merlin couldn't help but wonder how on earth she knew that that was exactly what had stuck in his mind from the sign outside. Maybe that was part of her 'future knowledge' or something, not that Merlin believed in things like that ... most of the time. But there were some things that were just so hard to explain. Not that he was into mysticism or anything – he'd heard all the jokes before, what with a name like his – but you did hear stories...

She closed her eyes and moved her hands over the crystal, mumbling under her breath soft sounds that Merlin couldn't hear or understand, but seemed to call something elemental inside him. Then those eyes snapped open as she stared unseeing into the air above Merlin's head, before they found him again and a deep laugh bubbled out of her chest.

"So, we meet again. So young, with such a great destiny once more ahead of you. Not that that's begun yet. Your life so far has been an endless journey on the edge of adventure. But no more. You shall soon meet the other side of your coin, and remember, the half cannot hate that which makes it whole. No one can escape their destiny, not even you." All this was said with such a condescending voice that Merlin almost snapped back something about destiny not existing or what did this woman even know about his life, and hang on a sec, when had they ever met before? but something about the power in that stare kept his mouth shut and his hands fixed firmly on the table.

Madame Kilgarrah's eyes snapped shut again, her head rolled a big circle on her neck and then she was looking at him again. Merlin barely managed to stop himself from shivering. "That will be £3, minus a tip. It all goes in the jar," she motioned to a jam jar resting on a wooden box close to the flap of cloth functioning as a door.

Clearly aware he had been dismissed, Merlin pulled out his wallet and left the money in the jar before stepping out into the moonlight. He was almost sure he heard her whisper "Good luck, Merlin. You'll need it" but clearly he was imagining things because he had never told her his name. Part of him had wanted to ask for more information, to yell in frustration at the bizarre obliqueness and the lack of detail, all the questions he still had left but out in the real world, away from the scents and misty darkness, it suddenly seemed weird and stupid, the kind of thing he would laugh about later with his friends. One of those weird things that only happened to him.

As he began to head home, he suddenly became aware of a large group of teenage boys, about his age, laughing at a poor rather skinny boy in the centre. A blonde guy who had to be the leader took a step forward and said something, poking the victim in the chest. A rather attractive blonde guy at that, even if he was clearly a horrible horrible human being. Still... Merlin sighed and headed towards them. This probably wouldn't end well for him, but he could never leave someone in trouble. He just wasn't made like that.

If he had thought to look behind him, he would have seen Madame Kilgarrah staring out of the folds of material at him, with a sinister grin on her lips. And then he would have blinked and found that when he reopened his eyes, he suddenly couldn't see the small tent at all. And if he had looked up at the sky, just at the moment when the blonde's blue eyes, narrowed in anger, met his own, he would have seen the stars shine just a bit brighter, just for a second.

But even if he had seen these things, he probably wouldn't have believed them. After all, who believes in _magic_?


End file.
